Body A Day #4: Beach

Body a Day #4: Beach

“Ugh, I need a break,” I said to myself as I endured another day of 90+ degree weather. Writing on a computer that felt like it could rival nuclear reactions during the day felt hazardous to my health. However, with an ankle that still ached from an injury and a lack of wanting to drive for hours to reach the closest beach, I found myself at a loss to spend my waning summer days.

Sighing, I just wobbled over to my bed and tried to small asleep so the healing process could be as fast and painless as possible. Soon after, I fell asleep.

I woke up to a bright sky and the smell of salt in the air. Not only that, I wasn’t in my comfortable bed, but a cheap plastic beach chair. “The fuck…?” I stood up, surprised at just how easy the process was due to strong legs and thighs. “Oh… oh yeah, this is great!”

The hair on my chest, the beard on my face, and the nice musclegut were all a nice break from my body while it healed. I couldn't help but place my hand on my chest, shivering from the electric sensations that echoed throughout my body at the touch from the calloused, well-used hands.

The whole place was fairly empty, so I’m sure none of the other beachgoers will mind if I just… check out my new goods.

Body-a-Day #1: Smoke

There existed a certain forbidden ritual allowed mortals to open up a portal to Hell and use its unholy flames to burn one particular target. The flames of Hell were unique, being much harder to douse than a normal inferno. This quality assured the caster that their target would be eliminated. But opening up a portal to Hell was a price that nobody could pay the cost.

On a certain day in a certain city, a particularly bold businessman who happened to be an amateur mage had used such a ritual to set the home of a rival co-worker ablaze. While the home itself had been miraculously empty at the time, firefighters still struggled to combat the otherworldly fire. After a horrifying hour of hard work and exhaustion with little progress made, the flames almost seemed to… give up.

While some believed that a miracle had happened, it couldn’t be further from the truth. A demon, Asmodeus, had slipped through the crack between the realms and commanded the flames to surrender. He needed the firefighters to end it quickly and raise any suspicion.

With the flames finally put out, a few firefighters inspected the razed remains of the home to see what could be salvaged. One of them, a volunteer by the name of Hank Sutherland, walked just the tiniest bit away from his fellow firefighters. Asmodeus had his target, now he just needed to take him.

~o~

A cold chill ran up Hank’s spine as he looked around. It felt as though something was watching him. Nervous, he called out, “H-Hello…?” Yet his only response was a column of smoke rising from beneath the burst wreckage and forcing itself into his mouth. “MMRGH! MMM…!” Hank gasped and choked as the demon flowed inside of him, filling his lungs and effectively silencing his cries from the ears of the other firefighters.

Strength failing, Hank fell backwards as the last of Asmodeus’ smoky essence filled his body. He groaned and writhed on the ashy floor before his eyes turned the same shady of darkened gray as Asmodeus. Then, his body grew stiff and he fell unconscious.

Hank awoke to an unfamiliar white ceiling and several cables attached to him. Cleared from duty for the rest of the week to rest, Hank eventually made his way back to his apartment. As soon as front door shut, Asmodeus groaned and cracked his neck. He let out a guttural groan as he adjusted himself properly inside his new flesh—as though he was stretching out a new pair of shoes.

Hands ran up against the man chest and stomach as the new Hank moaned as he experienced the pleasures of the flesh. He walked over to the bathroom with a swagger than the real Hank never had.

“Now then,” he said to his own reflection. “Let’s find the mortal who summoned me here. I haven’t eaten a soul in what feels like centuries.” Hank bellowed in laughter as a new playground was now in his grasp.

Body a Day #8: Wash

In the land of Gaia, most women were specifically banned from learning or practicing any form of magic. Marron’s house, a house that came from merchants who struck good fortune and rose to the upper echelons of society, was one of the more ‘progressive’ ones, as she received the basic fundamentals at a young age, but not much afterwards. Meanwhile, her brothers were taught until they left for a higher education in the capital.

However, Marron was still eager to learn more. She snuck into her brothers’ rooms and devoured each magical textbook and practice in the dead of night. In the morning, thoroughly exhausted, she learned how to be a good housewife for whatever lord she would end up getting married off to. By her 21st birthday, her parents arranged for a meeting with a local lord named Ector Valentine. Marron wasn’t particularly interested in the monotone man, but she remained kind, polite, and thoughtful. She laughed at his unfunny jokes and remained attentive and receptive when he spoke of his admitedly tame list of accomplishments.

Ector left Marron’s estate with nothing but glowing things to say to his parents—and so their wedding was quickly arranged. In the months leading up to it, Marron found it harder to practice magic in secret. She could feel her dreams of becoming a talented sorceress slipping through her fingers. How could she find the time to study, practice, and research while being a wife and a mother?!

However, Marron still kept the appeared of a collected, wonderful woman. She took a trip to town and caught sight of a crowd gathered around some kind of show. Curious, she walked over and saw a sight she never thought she’d ever witnessed.

Floating on a bright pink bubble was a tall, woman laughing as she spun on miraculous magic she had conjured up. She was laughing as she kept conjuring up bubbles, winds, and rainbows—putting on a show the likes of which Marron had never seen before. “Sisters and siblings, isn’t it our turn to lend our hands to the field of magic?” she asked the crowd, most of which remained nervously silent.

Several men tried to grab at the woman or even throw rocks, but a few quick hands movements and they were all blown back with streams of bubbles. “Uh-uh! No touching allowed,” she said while wagging her fingers, her face still beaming. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the men who tried to assault her. If anything, she almost expected it.

“My name,” the sorceress began, “is Tiffany Faye! I’m here to share my tale!” She went on to describe how she had learned how to use magic since she was young. Both of her parents, as well as several aunts and uncles, taught her how to succeed. “It’s because they believed in equality,” she said, briefly locking eyes with Marron before moving on.

More and more sorcerers came by to try and arrest Tiffany, but she easily gave them the slip while yelling to her audience, “If you wish to find me, you will. Fate is in our hands, my sisters and siblings!” Marron tried out to cry out for help, but found herself choking on her own voice as Tiffany disappeared as a stream of bubbles blocked everyone’s vision. By the time the bubbles dispersed, Tiffany was gone.

Forlorn, Marron continued her walk. She knew she should’ve put that encounter into the back of her mind, but she couldn’t. Tiffany looked so confident. So strong. She was unlike any other lady Marron had ever seen. Was it love? Marron wasn’t sure. She had never been so unsure of any of her feelings. But at the very least, she was certain she wanted to see Tiffany one more time. Just a conversation—someone to finally share these deep-seeded woes inside of her.

“Fate will bring us together,” those were her last words, thought Marron. Was leaving it all up to fate truly the right call? She wasn’t sure, but Marron sighed and just walked to wherever her legs took her, not really thinking about her destination. Was this what Tiffany meant by fate? Either way, Marron knew that eventually she needed to return home, eyes glued to the ground as her head hung low.

As Marron made her way back to her family’s estate, she heard a familiar voice that was music to her ears. “Ah, you were in the crowd. Hiya!” Marron’s eyes widened as she looked up and saw Tiffany, most of her body hidden by a thick robe. Yet her voice was unmistakable. It was so bubbly, high-pitched, and just full of life. “You look like you want to say something, so go ahead. I’m all ears.”

It would still take a bit of time to reach the estate by foot. In all honesty, Marron had all the time in the world. All she needed to do was remain calm while she spoke. Yet, as she opened her mouth to speak, her words came out in-between choked sobs as her heart, for the first time in her life, finally belt out her true feelings. “I-I want to be free. I want to be a sorceress like you…!”

Tiffany stared, face blank as Marron cried out her feelings. Then, once Marron finished, Tiffany smile and gently wiped away the tears from Marron’s burning cheeks. “It’s hard out there, for us. Now, tell me your situation. I can’t be your knight and save you from this situation, but I can give you a hand—enough that you can go ahead and go forth on your own.”

Tiffany didn’t believe in saving people—she preferred to give them the strength to fly on their own. “This is the only way we’ll be able to grant ourselves our freedom. I can’t whisk them away from their misery, but I’ll give the strength to escape with their own strength and power,” and it was with that philosophy that she gave Marron a certain talisman, a sheet of paper with just enough room to write a name on. “You envy the men around your life, don’t you? Well, this is a way to find a temporary hiding spot. From there, it’s up to you to decide what you wish to do.”

It would take a sorceress of exception talent and skill to use the talisman properly, but Tiffany assured Marron that she would be able to use it properly. And then, the two made their way to the estate. Tiffany made sure to hide herself in the hood of the oversized cloak, and a quick spell managed to disguise her voice—making her out to be a raspy, old man far too small for their old robes. Marron had to admit, it was an excellent disguise. “It’s sometimes easier to just transform the body to be male temporary,” Tiffany chuckled. “I know a sorceress or two that prefer that route, but not me. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

Marron could only nod, only half paying attention. The talisman, despite being just a piece of water, was heavy in her hands. Her mind was racing to figure out what she was going to do with it. There were many candidates in her mind, but she continued going back to that young man that barely interested her still. Ector… he was handsome, but he held little interest for her.

Perhaps… could there be… a chance?

Marron hoped that Tiffany did not notice her racing heart nor her sweaty palms.

Tiffany, disguised as a Sir Leon, arrived soon after with Marron in tow. She hid it off well with Marron’s parents while Marron made an excuse to return to got to bed early. As she lied on her bed, thoughts still full of Tiffany, she made herself a promise: that one day she would once again share the feelings in her heart with that woman who lived so freely.

For Marron’s plant to work, it needed to occur on a day that Ector and her were alone and isolated. She picked a day when her parents were attending a play and invited Ector over to her home. Most of the staff had finished for the day and returned to their quarters, so it was just Ector and her in one of the manor’s spacious rooms. They sat on a couch next to a lit fireplace, doing nothing but sharing stories about themselves. Marron knew that she needed to understand Ector as well as she could for her plan to go right.

"Milord, would you like for me to draw you a relaxing bath before we settle in for the night?" Ector eagerly agreed, and Marron excused herself to the wash room. Half an hour later, she called for Ector to go into the washroom.

Ector walked in, expecting to see Marron waiting for him, but he found no one there. Confused, he peered at the bath and saw the warm water with an odd shade of blue. Still, he trusted his new wife, so he quickly disrobed and climbed inside.

"Haaaah..." he let out a breath of relief as the warm water relaxed his aching muscles. He had spent the hours before joining his wife training and practicing his magical skills. There was a bit of pity in his heart regarding his wife's inability to practice such a talent, but he knew that women needed to follow their role in society.

Unbeknownst to him, Marron was making use of her talents right then and there. In the form of a liquid that resembled the bathroom and hiding just beneath the water's surface, she quickly made her invasion.

"Huh! Wh-What the--?! AAHHH, AHHH!" Ector could only moan in pain and pleasure as the liquid began suddenly entering all available orifices. From bellybutton to urethra, all of it was an opportunity for her to invade.

Once all of Marron slipped inside, Ector collapsed onto the tub, splashing water on the floor as his body convulsed. Inside, a magical battle was taking place, and he was losing. Marron swiftly bound his soul in a spiritual gag and sealed it away in the depths of his heart. Then, she spread her essence throughout his strong, virile body.

Each limb and extremity became warm as Marron took over. She wiggled his toes, flexed his thighs, licked his lips, and cracked the crick in his neck with a strong and masculine sigh. She raised his hand, looking at the back and admiring the fine hairs that ran up and down. To find true freedom within such a society, Marron needed a disguise. What better disguise than her own husband?

For the rest of the night, Marron experimented with Ector’s body and soul. It was easy for Marron to slip inside of Ector while in private and then leave his body while still having him under her influence while in public. Essentially, Ector was something of a disguise for her to wear.

~o~

Time passed, and Ector and Marron happily wed. The two settled down in a small yet still lovely little home near the border between both of their lands.

Suddenly, seemingly out of the blue, “Ector” announced to both families of his new love of research, and he wanted nothing but his wife’s company while he studied and experiment with new types of magic. He attended various seminars, met like-minded individuals, and furthered the field of sorcery with his extraordinary mind—of which none of his peers had suspected he possessed. Meanwhile, his wife remained in the background, subtly taking care of the housework and always a force of encouragement for Ector.

Marron smirked inwardly to herself as she rubbed a sleeping Ector’s back with a single finger. Another day, another list of research goals she wanted to work on. “All right, Ector. Let’s get to work.” She slipped inside of him once more by turning into the odd-colored liquid, and once more his body trembled and ached as Marron’s spirit overwhelmed her husband’s.

“There we go,” said Marron, stretching in Ector’s body and giggling as she felt the bones pop! She rose from the bed, most of Ector’s clothes laying discarded, and made her way to her study. Several tomes lay opened, and she intended to get through most of them today. Once more she began her research, finally satisfied with her life by stealing his.

Sorry for the pause with the A Body a Day, challenge. Will try to resume next week.

Body a Day #6: Mirror

Milo was the successful CEO of an established tech company. Blessed with three beautiful children, he lived life with no care in the world. It was only when he, deep into his 50’s yet still looking and feeling virile, went to the doctor’s that he discovered that he was going to die.

“It’s terminal,” said the doctor, offering his deepest condolences as he broke the news. He continued on, giving him an explanation regarding the illness, but Milo wasn't listening. His mind was still racing. He only responded when the doctor asked, “Would you like us to contact your family members?”

“No thank you, doctor. I have… a procedure for this. Family tradition, to be exact,” said Milo as he stared off into the distance. He thanked the staff and made his way home, glancing at himself in every passing reflection he could.

Arriving home in his penthouse suite, Milo sat down on his couch with a drink in hand. He stared out into the city skyline on a perfect sunset. On a normal day, he wouldn’t have given it a second glance. Now, all he could do was stare, transfixed by the transient sight, lost in his thoughts.

Which of my sons should I leave my inheritance to?

Milo was a father of three, but the youngest child, a girl by the name of Melanie, was not an option. That left two options: Matthew—who preferred Matt—and Mortimer—who didn’t like to be called Mort.

“Matthew’s a strong candidate, but Mort has his own little charms,” Milo muttered to himself, hoping that the crackling of the fire on his TV screen would help his concentration. He swirled a wine glass filled with a sugary grape juice as he hummed to himself. He wasn’t thinking particularly hard, but he figured that this was what all great thinkers usually looked like before getting hit by an epiphany, so there was merit to copying them in his current dilemma.

And yet, Milo found himself far too indecisive. After going through an entire jug of grape juice, he wandered over to his bathroom and began to monologue to his attractive face in the mirror. “Oh, my dying self,” he began, thinking back to his past as a theater actor. What should happen to my darling company and all my struggles? Will they vanish to the wind, nothing but hollow husks as they erode into dust?” He continued for quite a while before leaning into the mirror and giving it a quick kiss. “Oh, only you could understand someone like me…”

It had only been a few years since the entity was reborn as Milo. It wasn’t difficult to take over the rich CEO, but if he had known that Milo’s body would expire so quickly, he would’ve taken over one of the rotten kids earlier. Mel was still in college, but Matthew and Mort were already in high positions in the companies that Milo owned. They were set for life. However, Milo’s indecisiveness often held him back from just making a choice and doing it. Hell, taking over Milo was a choice that took about a week between him and his business partner, Niles.

Both were attractive, but after seeing Milo lounging around the steps on the company, the entity made its choice.

While the (relatively) brief period of time as Milo was great, part of that was thanks to all the cumshots Niles had pumped into his aged yet virile ass, now that it was coming to an end, Milo found himself in despair.

That was when the epiphany finally struck. Milo ran towards his room and gathered the necessary materials for the ritual. It only took about an hour to arrange everything properly. The candles were lit, the blood (hidden beneath a secret compartment in the freezer) was used and evaporated properly, and soon a burst of magic echoed into the night. Milo’s magic always looked like purple mist that smelled faintly of lavender.

“So, my other self,” Milo said, grinning at his own reflection. “Which one of my children do you wish to give your inheritance to?”

“Mmm…” said the other Milo, although it was ridiculous for them to be referred to as the ‘other.’ They weren’t two halves of a whole, but two congruent images of a soul. It was Milo and Milo. Any differences were quirks in the spellcraft and little more. “It’s amazing how we’ve ended up twice as indecisive with two of us. So instead, how about we flip a coin?”

Fate was a harsh mistress, but when looking at it from the perspective of ‘one Milo per son,’ then there was no reason for either of them to complain.

Matthew sounded excited when Milo dialed him up on the phone. “I’ll be right over there, my dear father,” he said with a honeyed yet forced voice. He was kind, considerate, and prideful to a fault; he was always so sure that his kind demeanor and charisma would give him a golden ticket through life, ignoring just how much of his father’s fortune and influence allowed him to fly through life.

There was a bit of guilt for Milo, as he had genuinely grown attached to these children that weren’t his, but he didn’t want to die. He had never died while possessing a host, and he didn’t want to risk the consequences of doing so. The worst thought was being trapped inside the dead host, unable to escape the prison of flesh as it slowly rotted away… turning into dust like that of Ozymondias’ kingdom.

Ash to ash… dust to dust… Those words always made a shudder creep down his spine. It was nerve-wracking. Horrifying. No, Milo needed to do this. They needed to do this. “Relax, myself,” his reflection assured him, smiling despite the anxiety in his eyes. “You u are no loonger alone. If one of us were to perish, the other would save him. Remember that, okay?” he said with a wink.

Milo nodded and waited for Matthew to arrive. When he did, Milo wasted no time guiding him towards his room, where a special mirror was awaiting him. As Matthew walked inside, he asked, “Why in your room, dad?” He looked around and took a quick whiff. “Hmm… it’s a nice smell. Is that… orange…?” Amazingly, Matthew wandered the room on his own, looking around various trinkets and decorations that Milo had gathered even since taking on his most recent host. “You’ve got quite the odd collection, dad. It’s… uh… huh…?” It was inevitable, but he walked right in front of the mirror.

“Must be a strange sight, huh?” said Milo, leaning against the door frame and shooting out an email from his phone. A bright light flooded the room, which made him glad that he wasn’t looking directly at it. He could hear a panicked scream from the eldest son, but Milo just shrugged and continued to look away. He knew that Matthew saw his father’s reflection instead of his own, and then saw the same image burst out of the mirror and flood his younger and more virile body.

“Quick, to the mirror!” Milo’s other half, now Matthew, cried out. For whatever reason—perhaps a fundamental law of the universe—Milo could feel his essence beginning to vanish. Was it because he was lacking a reflection? Most likely. But Milo didn’t have much time to think. He uttered a quick incantion and then jumped through the glass as though it was a pool of water. Immediately, the sensation of his very molecules being pulled apart as though being ravaged by some invisible, fearsome beast. “Phew, that was close,” said Matthew as he looked down at the panting, sweaty mess that was Milo.

“Sh-Shut up…”

“Hey, you’re alive, right?” grinned Matthew. “All right, I’m gonna give Mort a call and get him to come by. In the meantime, sit tight and get ready, ok?”

Milo sat up and looked around. Anything that was beyond what the mirror reflected was just a gray, foggy void. Essentially, he was trapped in that small pocket of a reflection until someone else looked into the enchanted mirror. “Not like I have much of a choice,” he said, looking down to see a phone with all the numbers and symbols mirrored, making it difficult to read. It also lacked any reception, which made enough sense to piss Milo off. “Just don’t take too long. Hey! Pay attention!” he shouted as the new Matthew began to strip and check out his new, stolen goods.

It took far too long to get Matthew back in control. Maybe I really should’ve recommended for him to get tested for ADHD. I had my suspicions when I took over his father for the first time, thought Milo, reflection on the oldest son’s behavior once more. But eventually Matthew dialed up Mort’s number, who picked up with his usual greeting. “Don’t call me Mort,” he said just before Matthew eagerly greeted him with a “Heya, Mort!”

The two went back and forth, and Milo, despite being in what was essentially a reality away, could still make out most of what Mort said due to all the exasperated yelling. Matthew went wildly off-script, but all it took was a mention that he was over at Milo’s place talking business for Mort to suddenly cry out, “I’m on my way! Hold up.”

Milo and Matthew shared amused smirks and awaited the middle son’s arrival. They didn’t have to wait long. Mort arrived just 20 minutes later, panting and sweay from most likely running up the stairs—forgoing the building’s elevator. “Where’s dad?!” he cried, pushing past his brother and stomping around the apartment. Matthew gestured towards Milo’s open room door, and Mort rushed inside. “Father, I have my reservations regarding—the fuck…? W-Woah, AHHH!”

~o~

Months after Milo’s funeral, Melanie found herself enjoying a family dinner for the first time in what felt like decades. The siblings had gone out for dinner and not a single fight occurred the entire meal! Melanie could feel her blood pressure lowering the more she found herself engaged pleasant talk with her siblings. They smiled, joked, and showed that they were listening to her stories. Not longer did they roll their eyes, check their phones, or just not even bother paying attention to her and instead bring up complicated business deals and numbers to each other, pointedly ignoring her.

After the meal, the three returned to Matt’s home and played a few cards game. Melanie found herself on a bit of a lucky streak by the end of night, managing to get to 21 during the last few rounds of Blackjack.

“It’s been frankly amazing!” she said to her siblings as they walked her to her husband’s car. “I can’t remember the last time we had so much fun. I…” she paused and choked back a sob. Matt pulled her in for a side-hug while Mort told her that the two of them promised each other that they’d get along better.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted us to keep on fighting,” he told her, smiling with eyes twinging with regret. “Just wish he could see us getting along better.”

Melanie reached out and gripped Mort’s hand. “Something tells me that he can. And I’m sure he’s proudly looking down on us. Thanks for everything, you two. Good night.” With those parting words, Melanie joined her husband. She didn’t notice the knowing look Matt and Mort gave each other.

“Well my dear brother,” began Matt as he looked through his closet. After the funeral, Matt made sure to take all of his old clothes from his days as Milo. No reason to let such fashionable fabrics go to waster, after all. “Glad we made our dear sister smile again. I think tonight was a Mission Accomplished. Oooh, I think this one fits the new me,” he said as he put on a floral-patterned Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned of course, and a pair of cargo shorts. He showed them off to Mort, making sure to flex to show off his core muscles. “I think the try-hard, sweat-lord life is behind me now that my dad has passed on and left so much money and influence to me. It’s time to just relax and cruise on by.”

Mort chuckled as he stripped off most of his shoes, content with just a pair of briefs that snugly hugged his crotch. “Of course, dear brother… my other half…” he said, lying back and letting out a relaxed sigh. “These bodies of ours were so exhausted when we got to them. They deserve a vacation, don’t they?”

Matt climbed on the bed and lied on top of Mort’s, who let out a moan. “That they do, Mort. So let’s give it to them.” They pulled each other close and kissed. Their hands went wild as they explored each other’s body for what could’ve easily been the 20th time, their lustful expressions identical. For once, Matt and Mort were equals in the other’s eyes; they became mirrored halves that made the other whole.

A Single Kiss with Matching Singlets

part 2/2

Coach Reynolds was an older man and head of the wrestling team. Standing tall and clearly proud of the team he had led to victory year after year, he intimidated most of the other coaches throughout the state. He was stern and assertive on the wrestling mat, yet patient and forthcoming in his office. Many former members of the wrestling team described him as having an ‘uncle-like’ air. Not quite immediate family, but trustworthy nonetheless. At least, that’s what Kyle gathered about the man.

Appearance-wise, he was an older, bearded, and hairy man with years of experience. He was the former champion during his days in university, and he reminded the team of that at the start of every new semester. Though the coach had grown a slight gut as he aged, not a soul doubted the muscles one could gain only through years of dutiful devotion to the sport. Perhaps he wore such tight shirts and jackets to accent the body he was so prideful of.

“It’s rare to see you so talkative,” the coach said, not looking up from the documents he was filling out. He sat by his deck with a pair of rarely-seen reading glasses.

All I said was, “Can we meet in your office after practice? I wish to talk about something personal.” Just how little does Zack even speak?’ The more time spent in Zack’s body, the less Kyle understood about him.

“So,” began Coach Reynolds. He removed his glasses with a swift and practiced flick of his wrist and set them down on the table. Smiling with the warmth that someone who was a father to his students, he asked, “What can I help you with? Come to think of it, this is probably the first time you wanted to talk to me like this. What brought this on?”

“Well, um…” How was he supposed to react? It wasn’t easy, staring at the man who was essentially his romantic rival. At first, Kyle went through a barrage of excuses to distract the coach, but he found it difficult to come up with a lie as he stared at the coach’s genuine and questioning eyes. How Kyle wished that the coach had Namba’s shaggy hair to cut off the eye-contact.

Lowering his gaze, Kyle’s eyes locked onto the golden band that Coach Reynolds always wore proudly wore to work. Kyle knew the story. They had split a few years ago, but Coach Reynolds still wore that wedding ring. Whether it was loyalty or denial, he wasn't certain. “I wish to talk… a-about love.”

Chuckling, Coach Reynolds relaxed and shifted back into his seat. “Love, huh?” he said with a playful smirk. Kyle could tell that the coach had been waiting for someone to ask him about that. “Well, this ol’ dog could certainly teach ya some new tricks. Have a seat, let’s hear you out.”

“There’s someone I love, but they clearly love someone else…” Kyle began like that, and then continued. On occasion, he would accidentally slip and say, “he,” while speaking, but aside from a curious eyebrow raise, the coach didn’t interrupt. Was it another of Zack’s quirks that influenced Kyle, or was Kyle simply waiting for someone with coach’s demeanor to influence him? Whatever it was, it certainly seemed to help get his mouth moving and his lips flapping.

Still, Kyle felt himself able to speak freely. Calmly. Not only that, but he felt… heard. Namba would sometimes tease or cut in to talk about his own opinion, but coach’s gentle prodding and listening was far more effective. “And… and that is all,” finished Kyle.

“Well, that’s certainly the intense revelation you gave, Zack,” the coach said, each word carefully measured. “But! That doesn’t mean I don’t have any advice to give you. Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing for you.” He stood up and wandered over to his desk, giving a great view of his ass hugged by those gray sweatpants he always loved to wear.

Kyle definitely preferred Zack, but he couldn’t deny just how hot the coach was. He had seen the man sweating it out in the gym when he wasn’t coaching the players—and he loved seeing the coach drench his clothes with sweat. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how the coach smelled. As Coach Reynolds stood up and walked over to his file cabinet—just what was he searching for?—Kyle silently stood up and made his move.

“Sorry, coach,” said Kyle with Zack’s voice as he wrapped both muscular arms around the coach’s meaty frame. As Coach Reynolds began to panic, Kyle leaned into his ear and whispered, “I do think you’re a great man, for all that’s worth,” and made his move. Exiting through Zack’s trembling torso, Kyle forced his spiritual essence to phase through the coach’s back and into his core.

Like a puppet cut from its strings, Zack fell on the ground, unconscious after over a day of not being in control.

Coach Reynolds, on the other hand, remained standing and trembling as he felt a student’s essence overpowering his own. “N-No, get outta… nrgh…! Outta me!” Coach Reynolds reached out for the door, but his legs were already under Kyle’s control. Then, his own arms betrayed him as they gracefully shed off his sweatpants, shaking his hips the whole time. “The fuck…?” was all he managed to say as his cock, bulging beneath his used jockstrap, flew at high mast and began to leak precum. His bare ass shivered as a breeze blew through the office.

Coach Reynolds struggled and moaned as he tried to reclaim control over his body, but it was too late as Kyle grabbed his shirt and windbreaker and tossed them off. Clad in just a leaky jockstrap, Kyle explored the coach’s wonderful body in the privacy of his new office. Zack continued to sleep, even as Kyle let out a roar of pure ecstasy and blew his first load all over the office, some drops even landing on Zack’s open and drooling mouth.

“I can see why you think this hunky piece of ass is your ideal man,” Kyle said, smirking as he flexed and kissed Coach Reynold’s bulging biceps. “I’ll have a bit of fun with him before asking you out on our little date.”

~o~

Sitting down on the booth of a burger joint, Tim scrolled mindlessly through a phone that wasn’t his until the burly Coach Reynolds sat down in front of him. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite coach,” he said, putting his phone down and resting his chin on his hand, smirking. “How’s the body feeling?” He took a quick whiff and chuckled. “Already beat one out or two?”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “How did you now? You got some kinda bloodhound nose or something?”

“Nah, but Tim’s got a sharp sense of smell. Probably cuz he doesn’t wanna get glasses.” Namba shrugged. “Already ordered for ya, by the way. Asked for the, urgh, the bacon triple burger," Namba's borrowed nose wrinkled as he said that.

“Oh, thank god. Dunno why, but Coach Reynolds’ body is constantly craving meat. Was about to go insane with hunger once I was done with a quick workout and jerk-off session. I haven’t had a single fruit or veggie all day. Not even a snack. Just craving meat, meat, meat.”

Namba chuckled. “A strong soul like the coach’s will naturally force more of his personality onto you.” Grinning lewdly, Namba lifted up his shirt and rubbed Tim’s toned and distinctly hairier core. “You have to tame these hosts we’re using. Usually, you gotta force them to submit, my friend.”

“Submit?” Kyle tilted his head. He had thought that jerking off was enough to wrangle coach’s soul. At the very least, shouldn’t the possession itself be enough to force someone’s soul to submit?

When Kyle asked that, Namba wagged his finger, letting Tim’s shirt fall and regaining some semblance of modesty. “No, no. This is why you’re to remain a novice without someone like me to teach you the ropes, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that when I’m in this body,” said Kyle, lowering his voice. “People’ll give us weird looks.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I put up a few precautions before you arrived.” As if to illustrated his point, Namba climbed up the table and lied on top of it before peeling off Tim’s cargo shorts and throwing off the shirt in just a few quick motions.

Kyle looked around, but nobody came to protest. Not even any of the staff. In fact, looking over at the staff on the counter, none of them were moving. Not even blinking. “What…?”

“Time bubble. Advanced stuff,” said Namba in between moans as he started to touch and pleasure himself. Tim’s boxers-briefs were still on, but didn’t seem to care. He still caressed and licked every bit of Tim’s body he could reach, occasionally rubbing the cock beneath the fabric as a dark spot began to form. “In public places like these are a great way to tame unruly hosts, y’know. How about we make sure that our host bodies enjoy the remainder of our three days?”

Kyle stared at the scene before him, hunger temporarily forgotten. Already, he could feel the testosterone in Coach Reynolds’ body working overtime as he beheld Tim’s naked and tempting body. “I-I… sure. Sure, let’s do it.”

“Well?” Namba spread Tim’s legs, his feet hanging off the booth’s table. “What’re you gonna do to me, coach?” he asked with a playful sincerity. “I thought we were just gonna eat together?”

“Oh, I’m about to devour the snack before me, all right,” said Kyle as he stripped himself, having already had plenty of practice with it. Coach Reynolds’ used jockstrap was the last thing he took off, and he twirled it on his fingers and a few times while playfully slapping Tim’s hole with his erect cock.

“O-Oh, now that’s a keeper…” said Namba, his expression, while still smug, growing a bit concerned. “A-Are you sure that’s gonna fit inside of me, my friend? T-Tim’s not exactly used to stuff up his ass.”

Kyle leaned in, chest resting against Tim’s own, and he said, “I’ll stretch it out real nice for ya, kid. Once I’m through with ya, you’ll be able to fit a whole cucumber inside.”

A tiny dribble of precum launched from Tim’s cock and landed on his stomach. Namba gulped and said, “Go for it.”

Kyle went was slow at first, just to make sure Coach Reynolds’ cock didn’t hurt too badly. Whenever Namba would groan in pain, Kyle would caress his cheek or give him a calming kiss as he pounded Namba’s ass.

“Ngh…! Oh, f-fuck…!” said Namba, writhing in Tim’s body as Kyle thrust in and out Tim’s tight ass. The table creaked and moaned from the sheer force that Kyle was using in the coach’s body. “F-Fuck me harder, c-c’mon!” Namba shouted, his eyes fluttering from the sheer pleasure and strength Coach Reynolds used. “We-We’re really doing this in public? Ohhh, you’re such a pervert, coach! Wh-What if someone walks in?”

Kyle forced the coach’s body to grin. “What’s wrong, Tim? ‘fraid that someone’s gonna see how much of a slut you are?” he said, punctuating ‘slut’ with a particularly deep thrust. Another strong shot of precum launched out of Tim’s cock. Namba reached down to jerk himself off, but Kyle slapped his hand away. “Oh don’t worry, boy. I’ll make ya cum hands-free!”

He lifted up both of Tim’s legs and slung them over his shoulders. With every thrust, he would pull him by the ankles to get just a tiny bit more leverage. Namba seemed to be enjoying it, as his hands gripped the sides of the trembling table until his knuckles were white.

Inside, however, was a different story. “N-No, not in public,” the voice of Coach Reynolds said inside of him. Kyle nearly stopped, but he was far too horny and far too deep inside of his new fucktoy. “G-Get out of me. This is my body!” There was a bit of pressure from inside of Coach Reynolds’ body, but Kyle didn’t mind.

“You’re mine,” Kyle found himself saying, flexing on his arms and enjoy the rippling muscles as he posed and increased the speed of his thrusts into Namba, who looked like he was about to fall unconscious. “This is my fucking body, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it! I’m a fucking stud of a man that does nothing but breed young men, and that’s the truth of it! This is who I am!”

“Yes, coach! It’s who you are!” Namba joined in, staring up in the ceiling as his mind continued to experience unbelievable pleasure. “Ohhh, breed me! Breed this hairy hole I got just for you.”

“I’m gonna breed ya and mark ya. Fuck, fuck…! I’m, I’m gonna—WOAAAAHH!” Kyle let out a cry as his climax reached its peak, and he blew his load and coated all of Tim’s inside with the coach’s thick cum.

“Holy fuck, coach!” Namba cried out as his own cock, still untouched, shot its own load. Most landed on his borrowed chest, but a few shot far enough to land on his face.

Coach Reynolds’ voice became softer and more quiet as Kyle continued to dominate his body. “I-I’m… This is your body. Use it as you like...” Coach Reynolds’ voice said before finally becoming silent.

So… I tamed him. But what does that even mean? And, is it bad that I want more? thought Kyle.

“Mm… tasty,” said Namba, knocking Kyle out of his thoughts. He reached down and scooped up some of the cum with a finger and licked it. “Tim never gets any less tasty. Though I think it’s my essence making him so delicious.” Chuckling, he lied back, head resting on his hands and hole overflowing with cum. “Drink up this sight, my friend. This is what we get with magic. See how rewarding this is?”

Kyle nodded, thoroughly exhausted. He sat down on one of the booth seats, rubbing his sore thighs. “That was… amazing!”

“Amazing and so much more, my friend,” said Namba. “So, what will you do now? Visit Michael or…?”

Nodding, Kyle said, “Yeah, that was the plan. But, honestly…” he hesitate before finally saying, “I was thinking… what if I stayed in coach’s body? What if I made this permanent?” It had only been a day and a few sexual experiences, but the urge to never leave was slowly becoming more and more attractive to Kyle. “Is that even possible?”

Namba cocked an eyebrow, his smile disappearing. “Yeah, but… you sure this is the body you want? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad body and all, but this is a big decision. And…” he let out a thoughtful hum, tapping his fingers on the table. “I can make it for sure, but not yet. Probably not until the semester’s mostly over. Until then,” he grinned and ruffled Coach Reynolds’ short hair, “I’ll keep cooking up some of that concoction for the two of us. Build that little relationship with Michael while I research for a way to make this sorta thing permanent. And, prepare yourself. You’ll be leaving your life behind.”

“And you? Are you gonna take over someone permanently? Like Tim?”

Namba shook his head. “I wanna take over someone hot and rich. Tim’s just a nice ride to chill out in for a few days.” He flexed Tim’s much lither body and ran his hands down his torso. “In the meantime, we gotta finish up our lease and this semester, my friend.” Namba looked down at his watch. “You got one more day until my next concoction, what’ll you do?”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to grin. “Whaddaya think? I’m gonna win over my new love."

~o~

Walking around in Coach Reynolds’ body felt like a reward of its own, so Kyle elected to do that to head back to his office. Zack was long-gone, believing he had just passed out while coach asked him to stay behind for a brief talk. With the office clear and most classes done for the day, Kyle sent an email to Michael asking him to meet up to discuss the team’s future as well as discussion regarding the next captain.

As he walked back, Kyle thought back to what Namba had explained. Their hosts wouldn’t remember exactly what happened while being possessed, but their experiences would leave little marks on their souls. It wouldn’t be anything significant without repeated possessions and behavior adjustments, but it had its merit. “It’ll make it a lot easier for us to take them over. Though I’ll probably hop inside someone else,” Namba had told him. “But you can even influence their behavior even while you’re not inside.”

I could probably get coach to keep seducing Michael while I’m not inside of him, thought Kyle, a spring in the coach’s step. Then, once I take over coach forever, I’ll already be in a relationship with Kyle. It seemed so perfect that Kyle had little belief it would ever fail. With that, he soon arrived.

Michael was seated on a bench right outside the office, but brightened up once he noticed Kyle approaching. “Oh, hey coach!” he greeted with a radiant smile that Kyle knew would soon enough be reserved only for him. “Dunno how of much my experience is gonna mean much, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

With a hearty, almost fatherly, chuckle, Kyle patted Michael on the back and assured him that, “You’re far more helpful and valuable than you think, Michael.” Slowly, he allowed his hand to slide just a bit further down before pulling back. “C’mon, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” The rest of the visit was full of small touches and mild flirting and winks. Michael would flush at most of Kyle’s light advances, but didn’t shy away from it.

Throughout the next few weeks, Kyle would use the coach’s body to tease, caress, and flirt with Michael, who subtly invited them in. Towards the end of the semester, during the final of their little meetings, Michael said, “Are you flirting with me, coach…?” There was a longing tone in his voice as he looked up at Coach Reynolds’. He was hesitant, nervous, embarrassed, and hopeful.

Just how long had Kyle waited for Michael to see him like that? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that, at least, that time was at an end. With Coach Reynolds’ thick fingers, he gently guided Michael’s chin for a passionate, sensual kiss. Kyle’s borrowed tongue guided Michael’s more inexperienced one, and the two soon collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. “I’ve waited so long for this day,” said Michael, unknowingly voicing both of their thoughts.

~o~

The day arrived. Namba served two bowls with a concoction that somehow smelled like lilacs this time. After agreeing to keep in touch, the two went their separate ways—towards their new lives. Namba went to his rich uncle’s company while Kyle paid one last visit to Coach Reynolds’ office.

Brimming with confidence, he knocked on the door and shouted, “Coach, daddy’s home!” without a hint of shame. So much had happened this semester, and now he was ready to finally embrace the future as someone new.

Coach Reynolds opened the door with dread on his face. “G-Get away from me,” he managed to utter, even as he allowed Kyle to strut inside. He shut the door and began to strip his clothes. It made the possession much easier. “H-How are you doing this…? What is happening to me?” Just speaking with his own will seemed to be a challenge for him, let alone resisting the power of Namba’s concoction.

Kyle walked over and planted a kiss on the coach’s neck. “This is your destiny, coach. This is how your story ends,” he said, placing two of his hands on both of coach’s pecs. His hands began sinking into his body as though Coach Reynolds was nothing but a pool of water. He let out a low groan, trembling. “And this is how our story begins.”

Pushing Coach Reynolds against the wall, Kyle slowly forced his way inside of his future and permanent body. “N-No! Get outta me, kid! D-Don’t do this!” Coach Reynolds clutched his head with both hands, almost ripping off his hair as he felt Kyle’s consciousness and memories swallowing his own. It was as if he was being consumed from the inside out. “You’re g-gonna kill me… I’m disappearing… N-No, please stop…!”

“You won’t die,” said Kyle. By now, most of his body was inside of the coach. All that was left was the top part of his torso and his head that awkwardly hung from coach's burly chest. “We’re becoming one, coach. Isn’t it great? You can feel it, right? How pleasurable this is for us? For me?”

Coach Reynolds grit his teeth, but soon his arms fell limp by his sides. “Y-Yes… this is hot for me,” he admitted, both ashamed and aroused as Kyle’s essence began to bind with his own. As two souls became one, Coach Reynolds became convinced that he was Kyle, that he was another half that was returning home and becoming whole. “Keep it up,” he moaned, thrusting in the air as Kyle fully dove into his body. “Ahhh! Oh, fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Coach Reynolds slid down the wall and fell to his knees, his whole body trembling as a merging of souls occurred inside. Memories of pleasure, pain, madness, and ecstasy all blended together into a cocktail of euphoria until, “HOLY FUCK!” The new Coach Reynolds let out a guttural roar of pleasure as he achieved the most intense orgasm of his life—and the very first of his new life. Streams of cock shot high into the air. One, two, more and more until he lost count. He came his entire load until he was shooting blanks, hips still thrusting into the empty air until he just collapsed on his side, entire body alight with a pleasurable soreness.

There was no need to explore his new body, Coach Reynolds was already accustomed to it after half a semester of taking it over. He just stood up on shaky legs and stretched. Kyle was gone, but he wasn’t at the same time. A new being was born, but he still carried the name Coach Reynolds. The old coach wasn’t gone, either, but it was mainly the one who used to be Kyle in control. The new Coach Reynolds put his clothes back on and checked his phone.

One message from Michael, asking the coach when their first official date would be. Coach Reynolds smiled and gleefully began his brand new relationship to celebrate his brand new life.